Coral Gables Riviera-Times

Monday, December 22, 1947, page 4 (of 8)

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CORAL GABLES RIVIERA TIMES

PAGE FOUR RIVIERA-TIMES MONDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1947 Published Monday through Friday afternoons by the Riviera Publishing Co., 200 Avenue Aragon, Coral Gables, 34, Fla. Established as a weekly newspaper January, 1926; combined with the Dade County & Coconut Grove Times, 1929; published daily except Saturday and Sunday. MEMBER, NATIONAL EDITORIAL ASSOCIATION, FLORIDA PRESS ASSOCIATION, AND CORAL GABLES CHAMBER OF COMMERCE ALBERT E. HARUM Editor and Publisher HELEN REYNOLDS Business Manager JAMES B. MOORE Managing Editor WALTER T. KRAM Circulation Manager HELEN REYNOLDS Society Editor DON CUDDY Sports Editor JULIA D. HARUM Woman's Page Editor PEGGY NORTH Classified Manager THEIS & SIMPSON, National Advertising Representatives New York Chicago Atlanta Detroit MEMBER, AUDIT BUREAU OF CIRCULATIONS FULL LEASED WIRE, UNITED PRESS ASSOCIATIONS SUBSCRIPTION RATES One week ......... $ .25 | Outside of Town: One month .......... .75 | One month ......... $ 1.00 Three months ....... 2.00 | Three months ...... 2.75 Six months ......... 4.00 | Six months ........ 5.00 One year ........... 7.00 | One year .......... 12.00 Outside of the U. S., $15.00. Mailing address: P. O. Box 6973 Coral Gables, 34, Florida Telephone: 4-1621 Editorial Department; 48-2641 The Coral Gables Riviera-Times is liable for errors in advertising only to the extent of the space in which the advertisement appears.

HOLLYWOOD FILM SHOP

By PATRICIA CLARY United Press Staff Correspondent HOLLYWOOD (UP) — A movie designer has just put forth a solution to the high cost of the New Look. You may have to junk your old clothes, says RKO designer Edward Stevenson, but you can resurrect your mother's. Stevenson says any woman with a trunk in her attic can haul out costumes and hats that are high style today. "Our new fashions are a direct steal from 1910," Stevenson said. "The clothes I have been designing for 'I Remember Mama,' set it 1910, might just as well have been designed for her daughter, 1947." To be 1947's "best dressed" in the 1910 picture, a shirtwaist and skirt, is the basis for a dinner dress Stevenson entered in a 1947 Los Angeles fashion show. The dress is a yellow and chartreuse print with an exaggerated ruffle around the yoke and a high neck. There's a ruffle around the bottom that scoops up in back to show lace underneath. And, just like the picture, the modern dress has whalebones in the collar. Actress Gets Copy Another Stevenson oldtimer which Barbara Bel Geddes wore in the picture so charmed her she had it copied for her personal wardrobe. It's a white blouse with eyelet-embroidered yoke and full sleeves, worn with a navy blue serge skirt swirling around the bottom to show a peek of white ruffle. Stevenson got his ideas from old fashion magazines and family albums. "The wasp waists, full sleeves and gored skirts, most of them with dust ruffles showing, were the last word then at strawberry festivals," he said, "and they're the last word now at cocktail lounges." Stevenson said the return to careful elaborate detail and elegance in women's clothes went hand in hand with a return to more gracious living. Longer skirts and rounded, soft, elegant contours, like those Mama used to wear, contribute to a gentler way of life. "This is the one time," Stevenson said, "when the boys can find a girl just like the girl that married dear old Dad."

In Our Mail

Editor, Riviera-Times: Receipt is acknowledged of your check in the sum of $16.69 as payment of the additional postage due on your issue of November 3. As my record indicate the balance of $16.68 1/2 was due on this issue, I am enclosing herewith a 1/2-cent stamp, representing your change. Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter. Respectfully, OWEN W. EMERSON, Postmaster.

That's Married Life

MADISON, Wis. (UP) — Two police officers, Ray Case and Donald Harles, took a bit of jeering when they returned with their wives from deer hunting in northern Wisconsin this fall. Their wives each bagged a deer. They got none.

Foxes Outfoxed

GAINESVILLE, O. (UP) — It takes a fox to catch a fox, said Harry Ferguson, trapper. Ferguson uses fox glands to lure unsuspecting foxes to his steel traps. In 10 days, Ferguson bagged 26 foxes.

Crime Doesn't Pay

MUSKOGEE, Okla. (UP) — Crime didn't pay for burglars who made a week-end call on two local filling stations. They got a total of only 53 cents.

OUR TOWN I Told You So

By Jim Moore I hate to be one of those guys who always says "I told you so," but here it is Monday, Christmas is Thursday and I'll bet you haven't finished your Christmas shopping yet. It seems to be the same old story every year. The newspapers publish editorials advising folks to shop early. The merchants play up the idea in thousands of dollars of advertisements crowding past offline people with the public to shop and mail early. And despite all the promotion, ballyhoo and advice, the last few days before Christmas finds frantic shoppers rummaging through the few remaining articles that are left, trying to pick out something suitable for Aunt Mattie in Toledo or Cousin Algernon in Augusta. Of course, there is the minority of smug individuals who really do their shopping early, then walk around the week before the holiday looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. Their packages are all neatly wrapped and ready for distribution. Those for folks out of town have been sent long, long ago and have arrived at their destination. But even for most of them, there comes the jarring realization about two days before Christmas that their shopping hasn't been complete after all. The postman rings the bell and there is a package from Cincinnati or Bangor. They look at the postmark, gasp, clap their hand to their brow and scream, "Omigawah, we forgot all about Aunt Millicent and Uncle Peavy!!!" Once is the smug smile as they dash madly into the throng of late shoppers. "Make it anything. A shaving set will be all right for Uncle Peavy. Wrap it up. No, wait a minute, Uncle Peavy has a beard. Better make it a necktie. That red one will do. No, no, no. You can't see a tie on Uncle Peavy because of his beard; he probably doesn't wear one. Oh heck, give me those socks and that pair of suspenders and gift wrap 'em. What size? My dear I haven't the slightest idea—just wrap them and hurry. The post office closes in ten minutes." Well Uncle Peavy is out of the way. Now for Aunt Millicent. "A sewing kit? Oh, no, that won't do. We sent her one last year. A curling iron? Heavens! She, it's me go. Auntie wears a wig. Do you have any warm gloves? You don't? Oh, dear. Those lisle hose—yes those in the box over there. Size nine, I think—or is it ten? Make it nine and gift wrap those too. And will you hurry plueeze." And that's the way it goes. The same old story every year. Shoppers never seem to profit by experience, do they? Good gosh, did I say shoppers? Good bye now, I've got to dash out and do my Christmas shopping!

All in a Day

By GEORGE O'NEILL RAY Thousands and thousands of words and ads make their appeal each year in behalf of those people who are scared to death over losing their hair. I'm sure, in many instances, that those who stick to the rules of hair treatment are helped—psychologically, to say the least. Take a good neighbor of mine, for example. For ten weary years he's been awfully conscious of having hair. It's out of out yet, but time will take care of that. Ten years back he discovered the first fall. Normally it creates more, and with a quick decision he dashed to the corner late one evening, purchased everything on the hair shelf, and began his strict, home treatments. First came hot steaming towel applications, then oil rubbing and massaging until the slowly spreading bald spots looked red like lobsters. The hair refused to respond, and kept tumbling down, little by little. Finally, he gave up—threw the oils, suggestions and treatments out the window and returned to normal living again—hair still departing, bit by bit. He was the man of the situation and ignored the tragedy with abandon. You've got to hand it to him, he's a better man than some of us. Those of us whose hair is beginning to thin out at the usual spots need not be weary in well-doing. We've got lots to look forward to: hot towels, oils, treatments and,—abandon. We can't all be the handsome types forever, you know. If it takes less hair to prevent conceitedness for otherwise good looking men, then let's not be selfish. Maybe we've got other fine points the world at large would have missed had we kept our hair. Some of us might as well adjust ourselves to this dreaded tragedy, and bravely face the inevitable. Confidentially, I haven't tried that bottle of oil on the baby's dresser yet, but when the family takes part of a day off, I'm going to lock the doors, and slip in one more treatment. But mind you, this is my last try! Any way, "hope springs eternal in the human breast," and who am I to turn up my nose at a bottle of baby oil when it might be the very thing. Not me, brother!

It Says Here ...

Willard Ware took his family North last year where the children saw their first snow. They were so impressed that this year they insisted on a White Christmas again this year, so on Saturday the Wares headed for Pennsylvania and hope for snow. . . . This mechanical age is going to give someone a nervous breakdown yet . . . especially the bus riding lass who hies herself homeward each day just about the time the Elementary School calls it quits. Yesterday she got in the middle of a skirmish between a pair of pistol-totin' (water, that is) small fry and disembarked from the bus in a dampened frame of mind. The mayor of Miami Beach wound up a speech the other day and innocently asked, "Any questions?" From the back row a listener gave him a simple question, "What about the morals in Miami Beach?" and got a simple answer from hiszone, "Try to fit." . . . Have you seen Hill Gordon's Christmas ensemble? Green tweedy coat, green slacks, topped off with a red and green tie. Right out of Esquire. . . . The City's 14 postman headed North Friday, also searching for a White Christmas. . . . We'll take the Poinsettia variety. The Everett Clays have a cute Christmas card this year, featuring daughter Dana and toy blocks spelling Merry Christmas. . . . Also saying "Merry Christmas" for their folks via Xmas cards are the children of the Bill Mehrtens', John Halifaxs, and Cliff Courtneys' . . . We're wondering why C. C. Patterson was so eager to borrow a press camera the other day. Sounded like a gag cooking. Reporter Alan Saftel was interviewing one of the Schenley Park youngsters who delivers The Riviera-Times. "Do you spell that the same way as the whisky?" Saftel asked without thinking. "That I wouldn't know, mister," replied the teen-ager reproachfully . . . another newsboy whose profile appeared on Page 1 came in the next day with fire in his eye. "I've been misquoted!" he charged. "I wanna be an engineer, not a sports writer."